


parallel lives

by snottygrrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: serpentinelion, M/M, Secrets and Wishes Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-29
Updated: 2006-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>draco never believed he'd be glad to see Potter. post-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	parallel lives

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** ust, flangst  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** this fic was written as part of the [](http://community.livejournal.com/serpentinelion/profile)[**serpentinelion**](http://community.livejournal.com/serpentinelion/)'s [secrets and wishes fest](http://community.livejournal.com/serpentinelion/tag/fest%3A%20secrets%20%26%20wishes) challenge. i chose [](http://wildegirl-05.livejournal.com/profile)[**wildegirl_05**](http://wildegirl-05.livejournal.com/)'s request. _I would really really like to see a h/d fic where H and D have parallel lives. One day, all their plans for that day are completely and utterly messed up by life. What follows is fate throwing the two of them running into each other constantly and the day ends with them kissing. Witty dialogue, please! Messers up of plans should include: seamus, blaise, lucius, snape, remus, ron and hermione._  
>  this fic gave me no end of trouble right up 'til i finally wrestled the boys into giving me an ending. i'm not sure how close i came to delivering what was requested, but this is what the boys wanted to do. will not claim to be able to write witty dialogue, but i did manage to include everyone of the above messers up.  
> the majority of the fic takes place at [St Christopher's Hospice](http://www.stchristophers.org.uk/) in London and in their [Creative Living Centre](http://www.stchristophers.org.uk/page.cfm/link=48), where Draco works. I made up the organisation _Healing Paws_ , based on real groups that do what this fictional organisation does (and only later realised its initials were HP). for those of you not familiar with dog breeds, [this is a Corgi](http://www.pembrokecorgi.org/).   
> _solacium_ is latin for consolation , comfort, relief.  
>  gratitude and kisses to my lovely betas, [](http://dragon-charmer.livejournal.com/profile)[**dragon_charmer**](http://dragon-charmer.livejournal.com/), [](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/profile)[**lusiology**](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/) and [](http://phenix-tears.livejournal.com/profile)[**phenix_tears**](http://phenix-tears.livejournal.com/). i am so spoiled. unfortunately, because of timing, they only got to beta _most_ of the fic, so if there are errors, they are most certainly mine, and not the fault of these wonderful ladies.

Draco yawned tiredly as he waited for his order at the corner coffee shop, hoping against hope that the latte would keep him alert enough to make it through his shift. He'd been all night at St Christopher's already and, the way things were looking, he'd most likely be staying after his shift finished as well.

It had been a rough weekend, and Severus finally had to be readmitted to the hospice for a few days. It never even occurred to Draco that he should probably go back to the small flat that he and his old Professor shared sometime to have a rest. He'd been taking care of Severus everyday for over four years now, and intended to be by his bedside when needed until one of them died. Even that, he knew, would never make up for what Severus had done for him while Voldemort was still alive.

Against all odds, they'd both made it through the war and managed to stay out of Azkaban. One might consider it a triumph if it wasn't for the minor issue that Severus had next to no control over his muscles and his heart had been slowly degenerating ever since Voldemort had wreaked his revenge. That, and that the only way they'd escaped further punishment from the wizarding world was because everyone thought they were dead.

Not even Pansy was aware that their former Potions Professor was still alive, Draco made sure of it. Pansy Parkinson was the only other person that knew Draco hadn't died under Voldemort's vengeful wand as his mother had. Without Pansy's aid, Draco wasn't sure he would have been able to navigate Muggle London. She'd somehow managed to acquire money and the appropriate Muggle identification for him, along with a Muggle Studies text. Draco had muddled through the rest, eventually acquiring a position at the Muggle hospice Severus been admitted to after they'd escaped.

Rubbing his drooping eyes, Draco wondered how long Severus' bout would last this time. The relapses seemed to be happening more frequently lately, their duration slightly longer. Severus was a tough old bat, but Draco could see how wearying life was getting for him. Draco stifled another yawn and tried not to think about the possibility that Severus might never leave St Christopher's Hospice again.

Shaking himself out of his morose thoughts, Draco listened to snatches of the conversations around him.

"Why don't _you_ help me today."

"You know I can't, they can tell what I am."

"So? It doesn't matter."

"To you maybe. There is only so much sniffing and cowering I can take in one day."

The voices rang distant alarm bells in the back of Draco's mind. He had ducked behind a large Muggle eating a Danish pastry before he'd even realised it. Using skills he hadn't relied on for years, he scanned the crowd looking for the speakers. He lit upon an all too familiar face and swallowed a groan.

"But Remus, this isn't my territory, I'm just filling in. I do children's wards; remember? There'll be old people there. Dying."

"Because sick tots are so much better than sick elders."

"At least they don't smell funny," the other man muttered.

Lupin rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to spend all day with an amorous Corgi. Anyway, Brian will be there. He does this all the time."

Draco swore under his breath, what was that blasted werewolf doing here anyway? Shuffling further into the milling crowd to avoid being spotted, Draco tried to identify who Lupin was talking with, but the man was facing away from him. After eyeing the sexily tousled black curls and the sculpted physique -- shown off beautifully in a simple black t-shirt and jeans -- Draco determined the friend must not be a Wizard. That was a body he wouldn't have been able to miss and most certainly wouldn't have forgotten.

He was just admiring the rather pert arse, lamenting to himself about why all the straight boys were so delectable, when their conversation drew his attention again.

"A lot of help Brian'll be." Lupin's gorgeous companion snorted. "I'll have to spend half my time avoiding his hands despite the fact that he thinks I'm straight."

"Exactly like the Corgi. Honestly, there is no reason why we should both suffer. My being there wouldn't faze him in the least and you know it. He seems to have no qualms about letting everyone know he wants into your pants. There's only one person I've witnessed with less compunction than Brian. At least Brian isn't a wizard."

His associate grunted in agreement. The two men collected their order and turned towards the door.

"Though you know," Lupin said looking thoughtful, "He's not a bad looking bloke. Perhaps you should give him a tumble."

Well-known distinctive green eyes widened in shock, "Remus!"

"I'm serious, Harry. You need to get out more. You haven't dated anyone since you broke it off with that skinny blond chap, have you?"

They were still talking, however Draco couldn't hear them above the raucous beating of his heart. He stood rooted to the spot. Not only was the straight man he'd just been lusting over apparently more than a little bent, but he was the sodding Savior of the Wizarding World. That man with the stunning body and easy confident manner was none other than Harry bloody Potter.

~*~*~

Draco downed the last of his latte as he hurried into St Christopher's. "Hi, Sally," he greeted the young woman at the reception desk.

"Hello, Drake. Nigel was just looking for you."

People in Muggle London knew him as Drake Prince, a concession between hiding and keeping things in sync with Severus' fevered ramblings whenever he was at the hospice. When Draco'd told Pansy what name he needed on his Muggle documents, she'd started to tease him about romance novels, but one withering Malfoy glare had put a stop to any further comments.

"If you see him, can you tell him I'll be down at the center in ten minutes? I just want to check on my uncle."

"Sure. Jane says Mr. Prince is doing better. His seizures have subsided as well as those nightmarish hallucinations." Sally gave a shudder. "I'm glad. I hate how desperate he sounds calling your name and imploring you to run. It sounds so real, I sometimes forget it's all induced by illness."

Unsure of what to say to this, Draco gave a tight nod and headed down the corridor. Severus was sleeping peacefully when Draco entered the room and he stood by the bed for a moment watching his 'uncle.' He really wasn't sure what he'd do if Severus died, but, thankfully, it looked like this wasn't going to be the time he'd have to find out.

As he turned tiredly towards the door, there was a light tapping that caused him to freeze. The sound was so familiar, and yet one he hadn't heard in years. Nervously, Draco looked over at the window. On the other side of the glass, an official-looking owl was eyeing him pointedly.

Draco fled the room.

~*~*~

As he hurried to St Christopher's Creative Living Center to find out what Nigel needed, Draco wondered whether the owl was here for him or for Severus. The one witch that was aware he was alive knew better than to send owls, and nobody should be trying to send a message to a dead man. Whichever of them the owl was looking for, it didn't bode well.

Draco rounded the corner and stopped, scanning the small courtyard for any sign of the blasted bird. Seeing none, he was about to step forward when, for the third time that morning, he found his body unwilling to move due to what he was witnessing in front of him. This time it was Blaise Zabini sauntering over to the entrance of the Creative Living Center.

Why in the devil's name was Blaise here, of all places. Had Pansy sent him? No, as much as she pushed to get her own way, Pansy was nothing if not loyal. She'd never so blatantly betray his wishes, despite spending a considerable amount of effort recently to try and persuade Draco to confide in more of his old friends and attempt to gain his way back into the wizarding world.

Apparently, these days, Blaise had some political sway. His family had managed to stay neutral during the fighting. With the rather timely death of his mother's eighth husband just before a wasting hex was mysteriously cast on his maternal grandfather (twelfth iteration. It was clear to Draco, that in the case of Zabini's mother and grandmother, the apple never fell far from the tree, as it were), Blaise was needed to escort his mother to Italy shortly after NEWTS (one couldn't expect the poor distraught woman to travel alone and unprotected in these danger fraught times. Nor could one imagine that his pureblood grandmother should possibly be forced to deal with the potentially deadly situation without familial support).

Pansy had told Draco that Blaise's grandfather had died just hours after Potter had dispatched Voldemort. Blaise and his mother were back in England less than a week later. And now he appeared to be at St Christopher's.

So if Pansy didn't send him, what was going on? First Lupin and Potter, and now Blaise. Was today Remember Hogwarts Day or something? _Next thing you know The Weasel will show up_ , Draco thought.

As if on cue, when Draco slipped back around the corner to avoid being seen by Blaise, he ran full on into a solid ginger-topped wall.

Weasley's large hands on Draco's shoulders steadied them both. "Sorry, didn't see you there," Weasley said in a deep voice that went with his broad chest. Draco glanced at the well-muscled body and wondered if all of his former classmates had matured so well, or only just the ones he had hated. An unbidden image of Granger with a pencil thin waist, legs that didn't quit and a kittenish pout flashed before his mind's eye. Horrified, Draco pushed it aside.

"No, it was my fault, sorry." Draco cringed inwardly. Had he just apologised to a Weasley? Avoiding the man's eyes, Draco extricated himself, all the while feeling Weasley's quizzical stare. Not wanting draw anymore attention, Draco fought his instinct to hurry away, instead moving around the other man at a sedate pace.

"Wait!"

Draco wore his most helpful expression as turned back to face Weasley. "Yes?"

"Mal- Um, are you… er, I mean…" Weasley looked flustered. "Do I know you?" he finally blurted.

Draco couldn't resist. "I doubt it, I'm sure I'd never have forgotten you," he purred, raking his eyes over Weasley's body. "Would you _like_ to know me?"

Deep pink suffused Weasley's face, clashing with his hair. "No! Er, I didn't mean… bugger. It's just that you remind me of this bloke I used to know," he mumbled, still squinting at Draco.

Thanking whatever Muggle deities there were for hair dye and coloured contacts, Draco debated between further teasing The Weasel, or making his escape from the awkward situation. However, before he'd had a chance to decide, a cordial baritone drew his attention across the courtyard.

"It's no problem, really. I don't mind." It was Blaise leaving the center with a nondescript man.

"Well, if you're sure," the man was saying in a mild voice, which was, like his appearance, unremarkable. It wasn't that the unknown companion was unattractive Draco realised; in actuality, he was rather pleasant looking. There was just nothing about him that drew the eye.

When Blaise'd first appeared, Draco had scooted back, putting the sizable bulk of Weasley between himself and his former Housemate. He was somewhat surprised to now witness Weasley's obvious agitation as they watched the duo depart.

Weasley gave Draco once last look before turning abruptly and heading for the center himself.

~*~*~

Draco would rather have done any number of things other than follow The Weasel into the center, but he really didn't have much choice. He couldn't do a runner as long Severus was sick and he couldn't skip his shift if he intended to stay at the hospice. Hopefully whatever was bothering Weasley about Blaise would keep him occupied and keep both of them away from Draco.

Drawing a deep breath, he pushed open the door and strode straight for Nigel's office.

"You were looking for me?" he said in greeting to his boss.

Nigel smiled. "Ah, there you are."

The sound of a sharp inhalation off to his left made Draco realise there was someone else in the room. A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach prevented him from looking to see who it was.

"You've been here before when Healing Paws was visiting, right?" Nigel continued.

Draco shook his head, not trusting his voice yet.

"Ah, well no matter. I'm sure it will be fine."

"Sir?" Draco ventured.

"Ms. Granger usually brings the animals from Healing Paws."

Draco stifled his own gasp, his mind reeling. Nigel was still talking but Draco could barely make sense of the words filtering through his panicked thoughts.

"- been here several times –"

At least he now knew why Weasley was here. Was Blaise really consorting with the Gryffinduffers these days?

"- unable to make it today –"

He was done for. Even The Weasel would have no doubts once he heard someone call Draco by his Muggle name.

"- here in her stead -"

Still, Draco had to figure out a way to ensure none of them got anywhere near the elder 'Mr. Prince.' Though how, he had no idea.

"- show him around, okay?"

Realising Nigel was looking at him expectantly, Draco braced himself. There was no way out. He nodded.

"Great! I'll leave Mr. Potter in your capable hands. Mr. Potter, this is Drake Prince."

Potter made a choking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter being forced back, and Draco was sure the only reason he was still standing was because Nigel was a Muggle and Potter would never break Wizarding law. Heart pounding, Draco finally made himself turn to the figure next to him.

Amused green eyes met his as Potter held out his hand. "Nice to meet you Mr. Prince. Please, call me Harry."

~*~*~

A stunned Draco trailed after Potter as he strode back down the corridor.

As soon as they walked into the main room, Weasley hurried forward looking decidedly relieved. "Harry!"

To Draco's surprise Potter seemed taken aback. "What are you doing here, Ron?" Potter shifted slightly, looking for all the world as if he was attempting to place himself between his friend and Draco.

The Weasel opened his mouth to answer when he caught sight of Draco lurking behind Potter, and his brows furrowed together. "I, ah, I, um…" He was eyeing Draco suspiciously, apparently unable to do that and talk at the same time.

There was really nothing to lose. Draco winked at him and watched with glee as Weasley turned a vibrant shade of red.

Potter's snicker morphed into a cough at Weasley's glare. "Yes, Ron?"

But before Weasley could answer, he was once again interrupted when a gust of wind blew in from the open door and claws scrambled for purchase on the slick linoleum. All three of them looked over as Blaise and his companion entered the center with two dogs on leashes, an indeterminate number of cats – at least Draco assumed they were felines judging by the meows emanating from the two carriers Blaise carried, and something snuffling about in smallish container tucked under Blaise's left arm.

"- sure you have all that, Blaise? Maybe I should take one of the carriers," the man was saying as he struggled to hang on to the leashes when one of the dogs surged forward upon seeing Potter. "I know they're quite heavy."

Draco could sense Blaise's magic, a levitation charm he guessed.

"No, really, I'm fine." Blaise winked at Potter. "I've been visiting the gym a lot lately."

Draco knew the instant Blaise recognised him, though he doubted anyone else did. Blaise hadn't been sorted into Slytherin by accident. Nor had Draco, who noticed the momentary loosening of Blaise's grip on one of the levitated carriers, as if he was about to instinctively reach his for wand and then conscious thought had kicked in, stilling the motion. Draco sympathised, his own hand had been itching to grasp a wand that hadn't existed for years all morning.

Ambling over, Blaise insinuated himself between Draco and Ron. House loyalty, it seemed, weathered all sorts of things.

"Morning Weasley, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I just came by, um, because…" Weasley's gaze darted back and forth between Potter and the chap holding the dog's leashes. "Hermione thought maybe…" He looked imploringly at Blaise.

Draco was almost certain that Blaise knew exactly what Weasley wasn't saying and why.

"Eloquent as always, Weasley." Draco was interested to note that Blaise's tone held no malice and instead was accompanied by a teasing smile. "Well, if it doesn't concern me, these animals are getting a bit on the heavy side. Nice to see you mate. Brian? You think you could help me with this lot?"

Weasley gave him a grateful smile as Blaise led Brian to the far side of the room, where they wrestled the carriers onto a table. As soon as they were out of hearing range, Potter turned to Weasley.

"What is it, Ron?"

"Hermione thought I should warn you. I mean you are doing her a favor and all."

"Warn me about _what_ , exactly?" Potter's tone was beginning to get an exasperated edge as his volume rose.

"Shhh, keep your voice down," Weasley hissed. "Warn you that he knows you're gay."

"Many people do, Ron. In fact, Rita Skeeter made sure the entire wizarding population in Great Britain was well aware of that." Potter looked as if he was loosing patience, but he did keep his response low. " _Who_ knows?"

"Brian. Brian knows."

Potter blanched. "Bugger. How did that happen?"

"It was an accident, I swear!" Weasley fidgeted. "You see Hermione, Brian and I were at our usual pub and Blaise came round looking for you. Said you'd finally agreed to go out with him – did you really? I thought you had decided not to."

"Ron, could we stay on track?"

"Sorry," Weasley mumbled. "Anyway, Blaise said he wanted to pin you down to a day. That he wasn't going to let his Prince Charming get away. Brian's eyes went wide and he asked, 'Harry's gay?' and Blaise said 'As a day in May.'"

Draco attempted to swallow his laughter, but Weasley heard him, turned and scowled. Pulling Potter a distance away, he whispered furiously in his ear while gesturing towards Draco. Potter shook his head 'No' in response, but he had an amused smirk as he glanced over.

Weasley looked as if he was going to argue further, but just then Blaise walked up with a purring cat in his arms. "Right then, shall we get on with the healing?"

~*~*~

Draco spent the next few hours assisting Potter, while Blaise and Brian vied for Potter's attention. Weasley had left shortly after his confession, giving Draco one last suspicious glare before departing.

The entire situation was grating on Draco's nerves more and more with each passing minute. He had no idea what Blaise or Potter were each going to do with the information that he was alive and well and living in Muggle London.

He guessed Blaise'd do whatever was best for Blaise, and he had the uncomfortable feeling it would involve the ministry. Of course any action Blaise might take would be insignificant to what Potter could do.

Draco was still mystified as to why his former school rival was being so nice. He kept expecting Potter to back him into a secluded corner and Avada Kedavra him at any moment. Never mind what _he_ wanted to do with Potter in a secluded corner.

Draco tried to dispel the arousing images from his thoughts, however it was becoming increasingly difficult, as Potter now seemed intent on using Draco as a sort of a buffer between himself and his ardent suitors. As uncomfortable as this made Draco, he far preferred it to moments like now where he had to watch Brian make doe-eyes at Potter or the ones just before that, when Blaise had lifted the Corgi out of Potter's arms to take her over to another patient. It had taken far longer than was necessary to transfer one dog and Draco had been gritting his teeth by the end.

It was obvious Blaise's neutrality during the fighting wasn't being held against him by the Hero of the Wizarding World, at least not if their current proximity meant anything. Potter had just been reaching into the smaller box that had been brought in earlier and Blaise had leapt to assist.

Draco had watched with interest the first time the mysterious container had been opened, curious as to what was inside. He had been surprised to see Brian pull, what appeared to be, a pair of common hedgehogs from the crate. He'd been even more intrigued by the soft squeals of delight from the hospice patients who held them. He'd stayed back though, not wanting to get in the way.

However, now Potter was motioning him over to the space he was creating between himself and Blaise. "I was hoping you could help," Potter said.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow and smiled slightly at the idea that Harry Potter was asking Draco Malfoy for assistance. Potter paused, staring at Draco, a strange look in his eyes. If Draco didn't know better he'd swear it was longing. "Yes?" he finally queried when Potter seemed unwilling to speak.

Potter flushed a light pink, but continued on in a normal voice. "See that lady over there? The really quiet one?"

"Mrs. Dashwood? She's a dear, but quite shy."

Potter was looking at him oddly again, however this time he recovered much more quickly. "I'm afraid the dogs frighten her, and she hasn't seemed to want us come near her with the smaller animals." Draco nodded in agreement. "I thought it might be nice if _you_ took Picket over to her." Potter finished dumping the small ball of hedgehog into Draco's hand.

"Picket?" Draco smirked and was greatly satisfied when Potter blushed faintly for a second time. The desire to see Potter flushed for an entirely different reason was almost overwhelming.

"It was George's idea," mumbled Potter.

Draco was about to ask why Mrs. Dashwood would be interested in a small prickly ball, when Picket stuck his head out and started snuffling along his palm. Blaise made to pet him, and Picket immediately curled up again.

"Nice going, Zabini," teased Draco.

Potter snickered as Blaise huffed. "Picket's never really taken to Blaise," Potter explained. Draco stroked along Picket's spines and shortly the little animal was poking his nose out experimentally. "Seems to have taken a bit of a liking to you, though." Potter murmured fondly. Draco was almost sure he heard a whispered, "He's not the only one, either."

~*~*~

Brian was scrabbling with the leashes again as the dogs realised it was time to go. He gave Draco a nod. "Thanks for the help today. I'll probably see you next time Hermione and I are back with the Healing Paws' animals."

Draco responded with a tight smile.

"Splendid morning," Blaise mused. "It's a nice here at St Christopher's. Seems like a very _safe_ place. Really nice meeting you, Drake." Shaking Draco's hand, Blaise held his eyes for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I think it's high time I paid Pansy a visit. I imagine she has a lot of news to tell me." He gave Draco's hand a squeeze before releasing it and quietly adding, "I hope I'll be seeing you again soon."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Draco figured that was Blaise's way of telling him he wasn't going to reveal Draco's whereabouts, at least not yet. He heard the mumbled levitation charm as Blaise gathered the carriers and followed Brian out.

Potter was finishing up with Nigel when the screech of an owl, as it dodged through the closing door, startled them all. Nigel was staring, flabbergasted, when the owl landed on Draco's shoulder and held out its leg.

"S-sorry, that's one of our birds. Must have gotten out when Brian went to the van. I've, um, been training him."

Potter was babbling, as Draco stood immobilised with indecision. The owl nipped at his ear.

"You'd better take the scro-, er, note. He likes to think he's very official, um, like he's bringing messages from the, uh, minister or something."

 _Bugger,_ Draco thought, _it_ is _from the ministry._ He felt like fleeing again, but Potter and Nigel were watching him curiously and the owl wasn't going anywhere. He untied the scroll. The owl gave an expectant squawk as it looked towards the shut door.

"I'll just send him back to Brian." The owl allowed itself to be collected by Potter and carried to the exit. It gave Potter a withering stare when he attempted to give it a command before it soared into the sky once the door was opened.

"That was amazing!" Nigel exclaimed. "Does the note say anything?" it was only then that Draco remembered the scroll crumpled in his grasp.

"Oh no, not really." Potter laughed weakly. He stood there until the silence became awkward. "Well, I, I guess I'd better go. Brian's waiting." He looked over at Draco, his eyes flicking to the abused scroll before fixing on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, and opened it again.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," Draco said evenly.

Potter emitted a tiny sigh and nodded. "Likewise, Mr. Prince."

~*~*~

It had been an exceedingly long day.

It had taken hours before Draco had found himself with a moment to spare and the privacy he needed to pull the wrinkled parchment from his pocket where he'd stuffed it as Potter left.

Potter had been right; it was from the ministry. It was a letter to 'The Next of Kin' from Azkaban informing him of Lucius Malfoy's death.

Severus had told him about a spell the Order had developed during the worst of the fighting that helped an owl find the closest living relative when a death occurred. The ministry didn't know _who_ this note would be delivered to, just that some member of Lucius' family would be informed of his death.

Leave it to his father to further mess-up an already fucked-up day even after he was dead. Draco was in desperate need of a bed or large quantities of alcohol, but Severus was still very ill.

He trudged back towards Severus' room.

Sally was barring the door. "Drake, I know you won't go home, but you should at least eat a decent meal."

"I don't need –" he began.

A weak but authoritative voice from inside the room cut him off. "Of course you do, you idiot child. And bring back some chocolate when you return."

Relief washed through him. Peering past Sally, He saw a pale, but seemingly alert Severus. He knew better than to argue. "All right, Uncle. I won't be too long."

"Spend enough time to eat a decent meal, and no fast food!" Severus admonished closing his eyes.

Sally was looking exceptionally smug as she ushered Draco out.

One of Draco's favorite Indian restaurants was just down the street from the hospice. It was one of those places owned by a family where the food was authentic, the atmosphere cosy and they knew the regulars' names.

"Good evening, Mr. Prince, eat in or take away tonight?" the owner greeted him cheerily.

"A quick hot buttered chicken here tonight, Mr. Bakshi. My uncle is sick again and I'll need to return to St Christopher's before too long."

"I'll get that right away. Please take our best wishes for a fast recovery to your uncle."

Slumping into the seat he was shown to, Draco rubbed at his weary eyes and wondered what to do about the sudden influx of wizards in his life. A shadow fell across him. He looked up, startled to meet the intense green gaze he'd just been thinking about.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Just you? Or are you going to bring another long lost classmate with you?"

Potter grinned. "Just me."

Draco was exhausted and Potter had been his bane for years, but if there was one thing he had learnt from his father and the Dark Lord, it was that, given the right opportunity, one was always better off talking to anyone and everyone, including supposed enemies, to glean as much as one could. He still didn't know if he should expect Aurors at his door tomorrow.

Besides, Potter was bloody gorgeous.

Draco indicated the seat opposite. "By all means." They contemplated each other for a moment, before Draco asked, "Did you follow me here?"

"No. I was supposed to meet Seamus. We do dinner here every so often. I love this place. The food's great. Anyway, he stood me up." Potter shrugged, then added, "If I hadn't already had plans though, I might have."

Draco's stomach did a funny little flip at Potter's admission.

"Listen, Mal- er, Drake." Potter laughed quietly. "Drake. I can't believe you let Muggles call you Drake."

"Well, my first plan was to live in the Muggle World and change nothing I did, just to see how much I'd stand out and how quickly I'd be arrested or murdered by either the Ministry or the Muggles. But then I decided to see how long I could remain free and in one piece instead." Despite the trademark smirk, Draco's voice was light and playful.

Potter smiled again. "Bloody hell, I've missed your snark. No, seriously," he responded to Draco's incredulous expression. "I have no one to keep me in my place these days. If I'd had any idea you were alive I would have been looking for you." His expression turned grim. "We were sure you were dead. Too much blood and magic leakage. Yours. Your mother's. Snape's. Even though we only found your mother's body, we were certain that none of you had made it. I can't believe you managed to survive, let alone escape." Potter paused, lost in thought. "You must have gotten away not long before we raided that encampment. I wish you'd still been there when we found your mum.

Draco snorted. "I'll bet"

"No, not like that. Drac-Drake, I know that you defied him and Dumbledore's portrait explained that Snape was always loyal to the Order; that he was acting in accordance with Dumbledore's wishes, even on the tower. Crafty old bastard. He knew that Snape's help on the inside would be invaluable in the end." Potter trailed off again and they sat in silence for a bit, Draco at a loss as to what to do with the concept that the Poster Boy of the Wizarding World didn't want him dead. "Anyway, it would've been nice to be able to help at the time. To do what Dumbledore wanted." Potter studied Draco for a moment before asking nonchalantly, "Prince, huh? Was that your idea or Snape's?"

Completely caught off guard, Draco sputtered, "What does it have to do with Severus?"

"Don't be daft, I know his mum was named Prince. You may have been vain in school, but even you wouldn't pick that name because you thought you were royalty, especially not after what happened with Voldemort." Potter's face was serious. "He's at the hospice isn't he?"

"Who's there?" Draco was trying for casual, but was pretty sure he was failing miserably when his fork clattered against the plate.

"Snape. Nigel was bragging about how remarkable you are while we were waiting for you this morning, and how he wishes he could pay you what you're worth. He mentioned that he was sure you could get better wages elsewhere, but that he knew you wouldn't leave, even if he encouraged you to, because of your chronically ill uncle. That could only be Snape. How sick is he, really?"

"What difference does it make?" Draco couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "He's sick enough."

"Would magic help?"

Draco looked up sharply at the question, anger storming fiercely through him. "And how, exactly, would I know that?"

Flinching at the ferocity Draco's response, Potter stuttered an apology. "S-sorry, I, I didn't mean…"

Draco's fury deflated almost as quickly as it had arrived. He was fairly certain that Potter wasn't trying to be cruel, but it was a continual frustration for him that he no longer had the tools he'd always known with which to help Severus. "Besides, what would it matter? Neither of us has had a wand for years nor can we get most of the ingredients we'd need for any of the simple potions, let alone ones that might aid in actual healing. I can't even brew a simple _solacium_ draught to help with the pain," he added, his distress palpable.

Potter was chewing on his lower lip, fingers twitching with the tablecloth as if he wanted to hold something entirely different with his hand. "I was just thinking," he began quietly, "that maybe you'd let… that maybe Snape'd like..." Potter paused, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself and then said in a rush, "I thought perhaps I could bring Madam Pomfrey over to see him."

Draco was dumbfounded by the offer. Instead of rushing in with Aurors to cart them off to Azkaban, or trying to coerce them to walk into some trap at St. Mungo's, Potter was offering to fetch the school's healer to pop over for a wee look at Severus.

"Just Madam Pomfrey. No one else would know. You have my word Malfoy." Potter continued, as Draco did nothing but stare, slack jawed at him. "Please, Draco, I want to help."

Draco was saved from having to answer by the arrival of their dinners. It was only when Draco went to lean back to make room for the dishes that he realised Potter was gripping his forearm tightly. As he pulled away, Potter loosened his grasp, allowing Draco to slide through his fingers, the light touch sending shivers over Draco's skin.

"Enjoy your dinners Mr. Potter, Mr. Prince. Let us know if you need anything."

They spooned rice and curry onto their plates and ate in silence that, despite the lingering question, was not uncomfortable.

Draco all but bolted down his meal, feeling unaccountably guilty about leaving Severus alone back at St Christopher's. Besides, he was well aware of how dangerous his growing attraction and comfort with the man across from him could be. Keeping his focus on the food, Draco avoided Potter, who he could feel watching him, knowing that he didn't have the energy to deal with that empathetic gaze.

As Draco scrapped up the last of his hot buttered chicken, Potter slid his Healing Paws business card across the table. "I promise I won't contact you if you don't want me to and I'll do my best to keep Ron away; Blaise too, if you wish. But you can get a hold of me anytime you want. Day or night. You know, in case you need anything, like Snape takes a turn and you have to have Madam Pomfrey's help. Or maybe if you just want to talk or some such."

Draco pushed his chair back hurriedly and stood. "I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, Potter." Cognisant of the fact that if he took the business card he'd use it before a fortnight passed, Draco left it where it lay. He had no right to risk Severus' life by further exposing them to the wizarding world.

He turned to leave.

Before he'd managed three steps, however, Potter was in front of him pressing the card into his palm, as Draco's momentum carrying him forward, bringing him almost flush with Potter's chest.

Blindly curling Draco's fingers around the card, Potter clasped his fist as he quietly beseeched, "Just take it. Please, Draco."

Warm breath ghosted over Draco's cheek, making it nearly impossible for him to resist the impulse to turn his head and capture the other man's mouth.

"I-I-I shouldn't… I…" Draco's voice wavered as his own breath skated along Potter's face, distracting him with want and need and unshakable desire. Struggling against the torrent of emotions, Draco tried to hold fast to his conviction. "Harry, I…"

Harry's moan was almost inaudible, yet the soft whimper melted the last of Draco's resistance and he knew he was lost even before he felt the light brush of a kiss at the edge of his lips.

"I'll talk t-to Severus. Maybe, he-he'll agree to speak to you at least," Draco relented, barely hanging on to what was left of his composure.

Harry made another mewl of need, leaning even closer. "Draco…"

It was only years of Malfoy training that allowed Draco to keep his rigid stance as he haltingly managed, "Harry… restaurant… have to go… hospice… Severus…"

Realisation dawned in Harry's eyes as he wrenched himself away, dropping Draco's hand and turning aside, a blush staining his cheeks.

Reluctantly moving towards the door, Draco pocketed the business card and looked back at Harry. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but I'm glad to see you again, Harry. Thank you for… well… just thank you. I'll be in touch soon."

Harry's sudden smile filled Draco with a warm glow as he headed out into the night.

~fin


End file.
